


невреме [nevreme]

by fuelledbycoffee



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Deathshipping, M/M, We'll get there, i mean not yet but like thats the plan?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:05:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7334266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuelledbycoffee/pseuds/fuelledbycoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day in the life. Lives? Unspecific point in time, during-canon... Ryou Bakura plays the gallant hero of our tale, an unwilling main character in a life's story he's not sure he's even living himself. He would't be wrong, but he's not the only one that tends to stare off and wonder if just <i>maybe...</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	невреме [nevreme]

**Author's Note:**

> This is not chapter one. This isn't even a chapter. It's not even a prologue, and I can't call it a teaser and still respect myself.  
> It's just-- a leg-stretcher.  
> Stretching my legs that happen to be at the end of my fingers.  
> Let's see what happens, we're in this together.  
> A title is too much commitment. 
> 
> невреме /nêʋreːme/ [serbian] foul weather, stormy

_Have you ever wondered if there was someone out there in the world that was a copy of you? Not like a doppelgänger, but on an emotional level, someone who just could get you? I used to wish there was someone, if only so I could imagine that I was guaranteed a friend somehow, if at least one. Of course, as I grew older, I realized how silly that all sounded, and I gave it up… but secretly held on to it privately, in the back of my mind where sometimes I liked to wander to and continue to imagine how nice it would be. Sometimes I wondered if that perfect friend was out there thinking of me in the same way._

_You know what the saddest part of the whole ‘soul mate’ idea is though? I mean, a soul is immortal, right? So that means that the soul that is meant to be with yours can be in any body— or no body at all. The person who harbours that soul could be just born, or dying, or even dead. The soul could be wandering and looking for a new host, and may never find one in your lifetime. Forget them being on the other side of the world, they might not even be in the right time period for you to meet._

_I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so depressing. I guess I’ve just felt lonely again. You know it’s too quiet in the house when you can tell the second the clock stops ticking and it’s time to change the battery! I guess I should get out more, but I don’t know where to do or what to do. I’ve heard about this place like a cafe but with board games, it sounds like a lot of fun, except I don’t have anyone to really go with. I suppose I could invite Yugi, he likes games… Maybe he can convince some of his other friends to come too. I hope so, I think it would do me some good to get out of the house and socialize a little. Hopefully by the time Monster World is done, I’ll be able to invite them all to play!_

He signed the note, _with love,_ and scanned the page with fleeting approval before shutting the journal. The journal itself wasn’t one of a kind, or anything special physically at all, and belonged on a shelf over his table alongside others just like it. Pages upon pages pressing inked thoughts to his late sister stood in a line, broken up between bookends with hand-crafted figurines and odd trinkets found in upstairs shops and flea markets. 

The rest of the room was much of the same; dimmed, quiet, and neatly scattered with various paraphernalia pertaining to tabletop games and shows the teen liked. A few were unfinished, bought or created but unpainted or still matte, with evidence of overdue work displayed in the collection of still-damp paintbrushes and select tubes of paint set aside for specific projects. The rug where chair leg imprints once marked their places had long since been retired after one too many unsalvageable spills, and in place was a small space heater under the table, just enough to keep his feet warm when his mind was too invested in his work to part from the project to get something as trifling as socks. 

Ryou pursed his thin lips and pulled his long hair over his shoulder, brushing his fingers through the few knots absentmindedly as he admired the collection with a muted sadness. It had been so long, it didn’t hurt like before anymore. He missed them dearly, and he always would, but by now the missing had dulled into acceptance and he only let out a puff of a sigh, averting his weary gaze to the wall clock. It was late, nearly four, and with the witching hour coming to an end, Ryou retired to bed to snag the last few hours of sleep he had left of the night. 

The teen’s eyes had barely shut when another pair opened, gleaming the same colors but with more energy and life. The body that had just barely settled in the mattress rose again, looking far less threatening in the blue-and-white pinstripe pyjamas than he might have intended, and strode from the bedroom silently. 

_There’s work yet to be done, Host._


End file.
